


Potter Luck

by Seal_Potter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Husk sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Triwizard Tournament, Underage Harry Potter, possibly just a oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:22:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24951502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seal_Potter/pseuds/Seal_Potter
Summary: As an added task in the Maze, each champion must brew a potion before moving on to the next stage where they meet the rest of the maze occupants. Now they can brew anything they think could help them.  But Harry Potter is not good at potions, so he has no idea what to brew or how.  So he decides to just brew what smells like it goes together like he does when he cooks, so he just hopes for the best. AU of course.  Just something that popped into my head today and I had to write it.  Could be more, not sure, could be a one-shot.  we will wait and see.Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the books/movies and I never have and never will make any money from the writing of this story.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Harry Potter/Voldemort
Comments: 48
Kudos: 732





	1. Chapter 1

Harry stood in the maze staring at the cauldron in front of him. This was his nemesis more than any other part of the tournament. How could they put potions as part of anything, his greatest weakness. Of course Snape had to have a hand in the tournament so he could make Harry’s life as miserable as possible. Harry sighed, he did not hate the man, but damn if he could catch a break from the sour man who did hate him. Harry looked around and saw the hedge had many types of other plant life growing out of it, and there were jars of ingredients sitting around, as well as boxes with a few of the smaller live ingredients they had worked within the past. Harry had no idea what to brew or even what most of the ingredients were as they were not labeled. 

He sighed and wished he were anywhere else but here. Potions all needed to be precise, unlike his normal cooking style that just felt right. When he cooked he put things together by their smell. If they smelled good together, they went together and then he usually produced a good meal. Can you do potions by nose? Well, he had no other choice but to try. So Harry set the cauldron on the burner and got started, all potions started with a base of water so he used the aguamenti charm to add water to it and surveyed the ingredients around him. 

He started with the hedge. Harry smelled some of the live plants and chose a dark, almost black flower that seemed like it went well with the smoky scent of the root that was red and veiny. They definitely had a pleasant aroma and the scents together worked well, so he cut the root and three flowers, more than that and the flower scent would overpower and not blend with the root. Next he moved to the bottled ingredients, there was a bright powder that had almost no scent, but the barely-there scent seemed to subdue the two other ingredients so their together scent was not so strong, but became more subtle and grounded with the powder scent. Harry went through smelling some very rancid ingredients but one pungent bottle of pustules captured his nose’s attention. He grabbed them and went over to his other three ingredients and for some reason the smoky scent of the root and the pungent aroma together made the smell give off the feel of adrenaline to him. He did not understand why that worked, but his gut said it did, so he put that ingredient down. He moved to the live things and sniffed through the holes and came up with some strange glowing flies. They almost reminded him of fireflies except they did not stop glowing and they were brighter. So Harry put them on the counter as well. He went back over all the ingredients, plants and everything one more time and nothing smelled or felt right so he decided that the five ingredients he had were enough. He was not sure how he would prepare everything as he had no knife or pestle or anything else… he would just have to wing it.

The first thing he decided to do was dissect the glowing bugs. So he stunned each of them and went to pull off the wings, legs, and head from the thorax. Using his gut, and nose he ended up discarding the head and legs. Harry bent down and grabbed a couple of rocks, he blasted one until it seemed to become a sharp knife or cutting utensil. He left the other alone as he could use it more for pounding if needed. He walked back and looked at what he had, he grabbed the root, and sliced a section, then diced another and sniffed, he took the flowers and decided to crush them and sniffed, he put them near the root sections and found that the diced root did not work, and discarded that part and sliced the rest of the root up. Then he put them in separate piles, and moved on to the powder, he had the piles side by side so he could smell everything, and when he added the powder to its own pile and waited till the scents became well blended and balanced. Then he moved onto the pungent pustules and he sliced one, but that seemed to increase the scent more than he needed so instead he decided the pustules needed to be added without any preparation. He then crushed the wings of the fly with the stone. The scent was right so he kept crushing until the scents blended correctly and he tossed the rest of the wings aside. The glowing thoraxes just needed to be left alone. 

So with his ingredients prepared the way he wanted, he started adding them one at a time. He let his nose lead him and when each stir and ingredient seemed to blend the way his nose and gut demanded, he put the final ingredient in. The glowing thorax. The liquid turned to gold and he stirred counterclockwise and finally when the potion started jumping about within the cauldron, he felt as if it were done. He turned off the fire with his wand and waited until the jumping liquid settled down and it was glowing clear gold. Harry sent a cooling charm to the cauldron and waited till he could touch it. Not sure what he made, he figured he would put a drop on a leaf. When it did not explode or burn, he decided that drinking the potion would be to his benefit instead of using it on something. He used his hands and drank a fairly large amount of the potion. It was almost sweet, with smoky undertones and not altogether distasteful and within moments he felt energized. Figuring he had made something to give him a boost of energy, he then cupped his hands and drank more leaving only a small bit left in the cauldron.

Harry saw the hedge in front of him open, signaling that he could move forward. Harry wandered the maze, and felt like he was being led, almost like his intuition was on point. He was able to sense the monsters before he encountered them and was able to use the spells he knew to get past them. Blasting curses, stunners and cutting hexes were all he really needed, it felt easy now for some reason. Before he knew it he was standing in front of a sphinx and the riddle also felt too easy. He wondered for a minute if the wizards who set up the maze did not really want to challenge the champions. Once he was past the sphinx, he saw the cup and moved towards it, sensing no one around, he reached for it just as he heard someone else enter the small clearing. He grabbed it without preamble and did not even panic when he was whisked away.

He rolled quickly when he landed on hard ground in a dark graveyard. Instantly he knew that he was no longer at Hogwarts and rolled behind a grave with his wand out. He sent a stunner at the rat of a man who tried to send a spell his way and he hit his target. The rat-man crumpled and Harry laughed… His parent’s betrayer was on the ground unmoving.

“Who’s there?” a small voice called out. It was sharp and sounded like it was painful.

Harry moved away from the stone and walked to look and see who was talking. He kept his wand out and pointed towards the bundle of cloth the voice came from. He felt almost compassion for the writhing husk on the ground. He knelt down and moved the fabric so he could get a look.

His scar burned as he looked into the tiny eyes of the husk-like creature. This was Voldemort, his enemy. Though with the potion coursing through his veins he questioned why this thing was his enemy.

“I know who you are, why did you bring me here?” Harry asked the husk.

Voldemort’s eyes were wary now, glaring at the boy who had him at wand point in his weakest state. He would not lie, what point was there, he almost felt compelled to give truth, though he did not know why.

“To resurrect myself with your blood so I could have a body,” Voldemort responded. He was not afraid, he was a Dark Lord, Dark Lords did not show or feel fear.

“Why are you so persistent to rise? What is so damn important other than killing me that you need to keep trying to fight against everyone?” Harry asked. He wanted answers. Answers that no one else in this world seemed to want to give him. He was tired of fighting everyone else’s battles without knowing why.

“The damned Light refuses to see reason. They allow muggleborns to infiltrate our world, tear it down and wizards just have to deal with it. They suppress magic they do not understand because they think it’s too dark. They continue to restrict beings without talking to them or understanding them and treating them like vermin.” Voldemort spat out. He couldn’t believe that this boy, this light child did not know.

“So, your goals are not to rule the world and kill everyone that opposes you?” Harry asked, he was surprised they were having a civil conversation. But it felt right, the questions just kept flowing and he was finally getting answers.

“No, not necessarily. This world needs to change, magic is dying because of fools like your precious headmaster. Limiting magic to only light spells and limiting the beings who would help with adding powerful blood to our world. If I have to take over to get everyone to accept the balance, I will, I will force acceptance.” Voldemort answered truthfully.

“In your opinion, what would happen if the supposed light won?” Harry knew he had to ask that question, his own gut was telling him the answer to this single question would change everything.

“If the light won, werewolves would be hunted and eradicated, vampires would starve and die, dark magic would die and with it all of magic because the balance would be tipped too far to one side. Muggles would learn of magic because we did not protect the secrecy and they would swarm our areas and drop those bombs and eradicate all of the wizarding world because they fear what is not normal to them.” Voldemort stated as if it was perfectly obvious. And to him, it was.

“Ok,” Harry stated, picking up the husk who was just as surprised by the gentleness of the touch as Harry was about caring for his ex-enemy, “How do we do this? You need a body, and I will help. I may be young, and have been kept from understanding the workings of our world, but I know when you speak the truth. I can feel it.”

“Wormtail has the ritual, but it won’t work now,” Voldemort stated petulantly.

  
“Why?” Harry asked as he walked closer to the stunned rat-man.

“Because it calls for the blood of the enemy forcibly taken,” Voldemort replied in a huff.

“Hmmm. well let me look it over, I have a feeling I can change things up a bit. I have a bit of intuition now that feels like I have pure luck running in my veins.” Harry answered confidently.

“Did you take the luck potion?” Voldemort asked incredulously.

“I don’t know what that potion is,” Harry stated.

“It’s a shimmering gold potion and hops about in the cauldron when brewed it takes quite a while to brew though,” Voldemort explained.

“Huh… Well, part of the maze included brewing. And well, I just don’t have enough experience brewing potions, so I winged it.” Harry offered.

“You ‘winged’ a potion? How is that even possible?” Voldemort cried out.

“Well I can cook, forced to for years at my relatives. I cook with my nose and usually whatever smells like it goes together turns out good, or at least I got no complaints from my relatives.” Harry offered.

“You brewed a potion with your nose, based on scents that went together?” Voldemort asked softly, impressed even.

“Yep, and well when it was done, it was gold, like see-through golden color, almost like honey. It jumped as you said, I don’t know what the names of the ingredients were. I just know I used a dark purple flower, a red root, some pungent pustules and glowing flies. Though I only used the wings and thoraxes of the flies. And an almost glowing powder that had a very light subtle scent. But if what you stated was right, I guess I brewed the luck potion you described.” Harry explained.

“Your luck astounds me, Potter, you brewed the luck potion in less than a day, when it takes others six months to brew and far more ingredients than you used,” Voldemort stated with a bit of awe in his voice.

“Yes, well, can we work on your body now, where is this ritual?” Harry stated getting a little anxious. There was a pull inside him that pushed for him to get it done and soon.

Harry walked over, bent down, while still cradling the Dark Lord to his chest and picked up the parchment. He looked it over and did not even flinch when he felt the Dark Lord seem to nuzzle closer. He tightened his arms a bit so as to comfort the husk and read over the notes. His gut was telling him he needed more than just the bone of the father, maybe even adding a few from both the grandparents. He sat down next to the large cauldron, placing the husk comfortably in his legs to cocoon the Dark Lord so he wasn’t on the cold ground.

He raised his wand and called the bone from the father’s grave and then paused. 

“What is the Latin word for forefathers?” Harry asked.

“Maiores, why?” Voldemort replied.

“Just a minute,” Harry stated as he cast a strong summoning for the ashes of the forefathers. The wind swirled and a thick pile of dust built up next to the bone. Harry smiled.

Flesh of a servant willingly given. He looked over at the rat man and huffed, then a smile took over his face. Heart of a servant forcefully taken, that would work nicely and Peter would suffer immensely.

“Your smile looks almost evil, Potter.” Voldemort mused out loud, it was actually quite becoming on the boy.

“Yes, well, revenge is sweet, even if it wasn’t planned,” Harry replied.

Blood of the enemy forcibly taken. He was no longer an enemy, and he would give willingly. So what would be best to do, he tapped his lips and his mind lit up…

“I got it. We will use the bone of the father and ashes of your forefathers, the heart of the servant forcibly taken, and finally, we will use the seed of an ally willingly given to give life. I do not think adding your snake venom will help, I feel as if it will complicate things. This feels right.” Harry explained.

Voldemort gapped at the boy as best as his husk form would allow. The boy had luck in his veins, so he could not really argue, but the last part was… well… it was obscene. He could only nod and accept his fate, there was nothing to it, he could not do magic and was completely at Potters mercy. It touched something in his soul though, the care and compassion the boy was currently showing him. Not even Wormtail had held him this gently or carried him so comfortably. He was always scared the stupid man would drop him in his fright. And Potter smelled good, he did not know why that mattered, but evidently it did.

Harry lit the fire under the large cauldron and added the ingredients one at a time. Relishing in cutting out the heart of Peter Pettigrew. He had bound then revived the man so he could listen to the screams. With all but the last ingredient added, He blushed and sat down on the ground cradling the husk, he moved almost as if on autopilot. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his soft cock.

“I’m going to close my eyes and picture how you looked in your diary, I need you to talk to me. I know it's strange, but say sexy things to help me out here.” Harry stated, but then his insides screwed up at the thought, and he re-thought, “Um.. I’m not sure how you might take this, but it might be better if the seed was inside you, I might have to find a way to get you to drink it.”

Even as a husk Voldemort could feel a bit of lust, a handsome young man needing some help to cum, that could prove interesting.

“Place me between your legs, I can use my mouth,” Voldemort whispered, his voice almost seductive and husky.

Harry groaned, his soft cock already starting to harden at the thought of Voldemort’s mouth on him. He had never shared a sexy encounter with anyone before. Harry was careful to lay Voldemort next to his cock and his hand went to the husk’s small head as that mouth found his cock and began to suckle. It was warm and wet and oooh so good. Harry closed his eyes and just pictured Tom on his knees sucking gently on his head.

“Sooo good Tom,” Harry breathed out panting breaths, he urged the head gently, knowing he could not thrust hard. Then he felt tiny little hands grasp around his now raging hard cock. They moved up and down, while the tiny mouth sucked hard on Harry’s cock head. Then a small forked tongue dipped into his slit and Harry moaned louder.

Voldemort for his part had not felt lust in so long. The cockhead in his mouth was hot and spongy and the flavor of the boy sent shooting sparks into his tiny body. He was fully immersed in the sounds the boy produced above him. He wanted to feel the whole cock, not just the head and his small hands marveled at the silky texture of the boy’s penis. It was glorious, he sucked harder, almost needing the boy’s essence, needing to fill his mouth with the life-giving seed. When Harry moaned his name, he decided when he got his body, he wanted to hear more, feel more and revel in more of Harry and the pleasure.

Harry gasped as that little mouth sucked faster, and those tiny hands worked his cock faster, as if they needed to taste him. The sparks in his body were lighting all his nerve endings in pure pleasure and his hand trembled on that tiny head. He was close.

“Tom… yes… just like that, keep sucking. Your tongue it’s perfect. I want to come so bad… drink it Tom… drink it and let me fill you up so much you're full of me. Merlin, Tom…” Harry panted as that mouth started sucking faster on his sensitive head.

  
“Milk me Tom… just soo good. I’m gonna cum!” Harry screamed as that tongue lapped in his slit one last time. He used both hands to hold that head close as he felt an explosion start at the base of his spine and explode out of him and pour into Voldemort’s tiny mouth.

Voldemort sucked, and licked and then drank down the very sweet essence of the boy. It was glorious. He looked up to see the picture-perfect bliss on the boy’s face as he kept his lips tight to get all of the seed the boy was spurting. It was quite a lot, but it tasted so good. His tiny body was thrumming and if he had a full-body, he probably would have cum as well. 

Harry pulled the head away slowly and tenderly as he pulled Voldemort’s husk form to his chest as he calmed down.

“Let's finish this,” Harry stated softly. He stood and put himself away and zipped up with one hand. Once done he walked to the cauldron. He peered into deep dark little eyes.

“Thank you,” Harry whispered before placing a small kiss on those tiny lips. He then gently put Voldemort’s husk into the cauldron slowly. He hoped everything worked perfectly.

Once fully submerged there was a flash of bright white light and the cauldron fell away as a fully formed body emerged.

Harry watched with a smile on his face as Tom Riddle emerged, slightly older than the diary Tom, but not by much. And his breath caught as he saw how naked the man was and how utterly beautiful. Tom turned then and saw the look in Harry’s eyes.

“Can I? Can I return the favor?” Harry asked, licking his lips as he stared.

Tom turned and walked towards the boy, almost a man. “If you like, I still feel your pleasure thrumming through me.” 

Harry walked a few steps and then reached for Tom pulling him closer, he looked between Tom’s ruby eyes and then down to his soft lips and then back up.

Tom reached and tilted Harry’s head back and claimed those delicious lips as his own. He could feel the newness of the kiss for Harry, but he pressed his lips firmly and then fluttered them across Harry’s soft lips. He then licked out his tongue trailing slowly against the bottom lip and Harry gasped at the heat of it. Tom delved in learning every contour and dip in Harry’s mouth, the flavor of the boy just as good as his essence. It was addicting, and right then, Tom knew he would never get enough of this boy. Tom moaned when Harry broke the kiss and started kissing his neck and then chest as he lowered himself to the ground.

Once on his knees, Harry inhaled the amazing scent that was all Tom. He pressed his face into the pubic hair above the jutting erection. It smelled like home. He reached out and caressed the hardened cock in front of him and then just licked the head. He looked up and his eyes clashed with the red orbs above him. He opened his mouth and slid down as far as he could go. He let his tongue guide him as he tasted Tom. Harry felt hands in his hair and it energized him even more as he started to move up and down the glorious shaft. He dipped his tongue into the slit and the flavor of Tom’s essence burst over his tongue and he moaned loudly. The fingers in his hair tightened and Tom started pumping his hips. Harry let him, holding on only to Tom’s legs as he let the man take over. He swirled his tongue and sucked hard when only the tip was in. He massaged the head, and then moaned when it was all pushed back in. He grasped Tom’s arse and pushed the man to go faster, his own cock feeling like it was throbbing in time with each thrust. 

Tom was in pure bliss, the heat of that mouth on him and the suction felt like it was trying to pull his soul out with his cock. And when Harry urged him to move faster, he was lost on the sea of pure pleasure and sensation…

“Harry… I’m gonna…” Tom cried out trying to hold back and let the boy decide to move away.

Harry for his part wanted to taste it all. He doubled his efforts and sucked harder and bobbed his head faster wanting, no needing the essence of this man painting his very soul. When Tom exploded, Harry drank every drop, moaning in pure unadulterated bliss as he too came in his pants. They both collapsed on the ground breathing hard.

“That was amazing.” Harry stated. Tom nodded and scooted closer pulling Harry to him. He did not want to let this go. He knew he had originally had plans of calling his followers to him, but that will have to wait.


	2. Snape's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I honestly did not think this would be written... but the more you guys asked for it, the more it seemed to creep in, and then... voila.. it was born.
> 
> So you asked for it... here is Snape's Point of view. I really wanted more snark... but the more I re-read it, the more it just fit the way it was. I hope you enjoy.

Severus sat up, glee written all over his face as he watched the floating screen that held Potter’s view. The boy looked absolutely devastated to see the potions set up. The boy looked lost and Severus felt as if his life’s work had been accomplished in that moment. He waited with baited breath to see what the dunderhead would do. He held no hope for the boy to brew anything useful. The champions would find out that they would be able to move on even if they produced sludge, but then they would not have any advantages that a potion could allow. A simple healing salve would be helpful, as would a blasting potion or even a vanishing potion. Shifting his view, it looked like the half veela was starting to brew a healing salve. 

So the boy at least remembered the basics, Severus mused as he watched Harry set up the cauldron and add water to it. His amusement turned to horror when he witnessed Harry start smelling things. What in Merlin’s name was the boy doing, some of those ingredients could have been caustic for all the boy knew, properties on their odor alone could cause some serious damage if precautions were not taken. 

The boy chose squill flowers and redboar root, Severus was baffled, he had no idea what the boy was going for since no potion he knew ever combined those two ingredients, and most potions use the squill bulbs not the flowers, it was universally accepted that the flowers were useless. The ground unicorn horn was an even bigger surprise because Harry had no ingredients for the poison antidote that unicorn horn was usually brewed with. Was the boy just placing anything into the potion? He would probably blow something up, even if his chosen ingredients did not have explosive properties so far. Severus was flabbergasted when Potter grabbed what he knew was an ingredient placed for the sole purpose of being a distraction.

Once someone smelled the fermentation of the bubotuber pustules they should know to put it back. Those pustules can not be used in any potion if they have fermented. My lord, what is that child thinking? Severus was awash in absolute horror but also pleased that the boy would end up with something absolutely nothing useful if anything at all. And then the boy did something even more surprising, he grabbed a box of what Severus knew was live golden billywigs. All the while, the boy just seemed to continue to sniff everything. The boy was a complete idiot.

Well at least there was some intelligence in Potter for stunning the golden Billywigs. But his almost praise died in his mind when the boy went and only kept the wings and thorax, why did he not just pull out the stinger from the thorax? No one used any other part of the Billywig in a potion, the rest was pointless. Most of the ingredients the boy had were what Potions Masters called fodder, leftover parts of something useful. Severus sighed when he saw the boy could not even transfigure a proper knife. This potion would be slop, no finesse, no artistry, no passion. 

Severus sighed again as he watched the boy continue to smell the ingredients as he cut sections in various ways. Use your brain Potter, not your nose… What? He groaned again, that root should be diced. Only one potion ever called for redboar root to be sliced, and it was definitely not the oculus potion. Crushing the flowers was the only decent choice the boy made, as that would make whatever properties more potent and effective, if the flowers possessed any actual potions value, which they did not. When the boy just seemed to sniff everything and put things into piles, Severus was even more confused. He almost gagged when he saw Potter cut into the pustule, but was surprised to see the boy discard the cut pustule. The pus was not salvageable after fermentation, but it would have made more logical potion sense to use the pus. 

The boy was not following any logic, nor any potion-making techniques that he knew of. And what in Merlin’s name was up with all the smelling of the ingredients, was the boy suicidal? Of course, none of the provided ingredients were toxic, that was something he did not compromise on even if the tournament allowed it. But still, anyone versed in potions knew not to scent the ingredients. Now the boy crushed the billywig wings, as far as he knew, the wings were inert of any useful properties in any potion, hence why they only used the stingers, but it seemed potter was not only using the crushed wings but the full thorax, who knew how that would react depending on what was in the gut of those insects.

The boy was following no logic at all, just seemed to be throwing the ingredients in with no rhyme or reason except his nose. That was the most ridiculous thing he had ever seen. The ingredients were all mainly blah, so there could be very little reaction to make a potion that could do anything with any effects except possibly make the drinker nauseous. But Severus sat up straight and narrowed his eyes when Potter put in the last ingredient. His only thought before he fainted upon seeing a perfectly gold potion, jumping and simmering perfectly was ‘the Fuck?’.

It was not until after Harry Potter had disappeared, to Merlin knows where, that Severus approached that cauldron. He took out a vial that he had always on him and scooped out the last small bit. From what Severus gathered from the others who witnessed the rest of the tournament, the boy drank almost the entire cauldron. Wherever the boy was, he did not expect the boy to survive, everyone knew that too much of this particular potion was highly toxic in large quantities… But, with Potter’s ability to subvert the impossible, who knows… this potion was not brewed the normal way, nor was it brewed with the right ingredients or in the correct time frame. How in bloody nine layers of Hell did the boy brew Felix Felicis in less than an hour and with none of the right ingredients?

He would have to go over his memory again and see if he could recreate this. The boy may be an idiot, but he had to admit his own pure awe when his spell registered the Felix potion correctly, but it was altered. What his spell listed for effects was just extraordinary. It produced a luck induced intuition exactly like the original, but the toxicity was lowered to null and it had a truth compulsion layered into it as well as an adrenaline boost. No wonder the boy sailed through the maze with utter ease. Now they just had to find the boy and figure out what trouble the blasted brat was into this time. He could only hope the boy was alive, but with this potion in his system, that was mostly assured.


End file.
